


Knife's Edge

by Rooscha



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dominance, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Painplay, Sexual Fantasy, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 11:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16974174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rooscha/pseuds/Rooscha
Summary: Megatron fantasizes about young officer Starscream. Dark undertones. The beginning of Starscream's Dom/Sub issues.





	Knife's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> So in my mind, Starscream's fucked up berth issues began with Megatron and escalated from there. Here is the very start, from Megatron's POV. Megatron is older and wiser, much more experienced. Star doesn't know what he's attracting...

The flier wanted him so very badly. 

It was charming, it was delightful - it was distracting. 

Even Shockwave had commented on it. Shockwave, with his one optic, no hands and absolutely NO game - had noticed. 

Which, naturally, meant that everyone else knew as well. 

Mecha had goaded him good naturedly during training, his status was not enough to deter them entirely. They glanced at him out of the side of their optics and visors, sly grins erupting on otherwise vacant face plates. They all looked up towards the colorful display in the sky, where the seeker was looping and diving, doing all he could to show off. 

And it was a sight. His wings were beautifully maintained, and they flashed in the light of Cybertron’s moons. The way his afterburners kicked on to power him through the atmosphere so effortlessly called to Megatron’s need to harness power. 

Megatron’s mouth was downturned, frowning up at the young flier. It would not do for him to seem too interested, too…wanting. 

He was, of course. Interested, that is. It had taken all of his inner strength not to write about his lust for the young mech, all the ways he wanted to dominate the younger more vulnerable mech. He found himself laying in his large berth, hand drifting towards his spike housing, thinking about what the mech’s valve would feel like. 

His frame was not overly large, but he was large enough to take a mech of Megatron’s size, assuming he had never resized his array for a smaller lover. Given that seekers mostly only slept with seekers, he doubted that would be much of an issue. 

Despite himself, tearing his optics away from the scene in the sky was impossible. The grace, the power…watching him easily loop around his cadre, outstripping them with only a swift burst of speed. The rest struggled to catch up, their drills being called by an older seeker from atop a spire. For the most part, Megatron allowed the seekers to run their own conditioning. He would still approve the plans, meet with the Generals, but at the end of the orn, he was a ground frame. There were certain things he couldn’t do and would not pretend otherwise. 

For the strength of the Decepticon army, he needed to watch his mecha drill. 

But, Primus, he wanted to do some drilling of his own. 

Also, thank Primus that Soundwave was not around to read his mind. The mech had already been traumatized by his inner thoughts, and now refused to go with him to ‘assess the troops.’ 

It was only a matter of time until Megatron would give in, would take the seeker to his berth. His wings would be strapped to Megatron’s berth, their broad expanse run through with electrical currents. How his seeker would moan and struggle. The currents would be almost too strong, agony and pleasure running side by side. His hands would be cuffed above his head, making his back arch ever so slightly, pushing his cockpit up and his aft down. There would be no pillows for this treasure, he would need to feel every ounce of the strain the next day. Remind him of the delicate play of pain and pleasure that his master had given him. 

His thrusters would be disabled, scorch marks were not something Megatron wished to deal with. He would be the only one leaving any marks on plating. His trine would help him later, when Megatron had finished. It would do the dandy some good to walk the halls of the base with paint transfers and smoking circuits. Let the entire population know that he had been thoroughly conquered, fucked and dominated. 

Megatron smiled and walked onward, inspecting the cadres of mecha on the ground. Tonight he would summon this Starscream to his berth. See if the young mech was all talk or if he could use his mouth for something other than shrieking at the top of his vocalizer.


End file.
